by Laura Moore
When she looked at him in confusion, he smiled. “You know, my supreme arrogance and rudeness. It’s possible you mentioned a few others.”
She felt a blush heat her cheeks. “I—uh—may have been a bit harsh that day.”
He grinned. “Really? You mean I’m growing on you?” Stepping close he reached out and tucked her bang behind her ear—she loved it when he did that—and then trailed his fingers over her cheek. “Tess, I want you to move your things into my place.”
She looked up, startled by his unexpected suggestion. Startled and worried. His thumb was now tracing her lower lip. It trembled against the calloused pad. “I—I don’t think that’s a good idea, Ward. It’s too soon. I—”
He raised his hands to frame her face. His beautiful eyes were mesmerizing and intent. “Tess, I’m crazy about you. I want to do this.”
“Oh, Ward—” she began in an agonized whisper. “I—I care for you too. Really, I do. It’s just—” She stopped and closed her eyes. Oh God, life was so messy and complicated. She wanted this so much, but how could she move in with him when she wasn’t sure she was ready to be in a real relationship yet? It wasn’t only the pain of her ruined marriage that held her back; she’d yet to talk to him about the Bradfords. Her aim in coming to Acacia had been to escape every last tie to them. Then today, their name had been spoken by sweet, kind Carrie, and all the ugliness associated with them had returned. Tess only hoped Ward would understand why she’d taken their money when she did find a way to tell him. She couldn’t make the attempt now. She needed more time.
She covered his hands with hers and drew them down to clasp them tight. “Ward,” she began, her voice low and pleading. “So much has happened to me during this past year. Terrible, terrible things that I’m still struggling with. And so much has happened since I came to Acacia and Silver Creek. This job as the guest ranch’s events planner, I love it. And I love organizing Brian and Carrie’s wedding. But it’s all a lot of work, and I’m so scared of screwing up. Can’t we just keep things as they are for a while longer? Until after the wedding, perhaps? Until after Erica is really gone from your life?”
She breathed a sigh of relief when he gave a short nod and said, “Erica’s not in my life, Tess. But I understand what you’re saying. So, okay, we’ll do it your way. We’ll take it slowly and keep things as they are for the time being.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Somehow she would have to find the courage and the words to explain.
WARD DIDN’T KNOW what alerted him to Tess’s absence. Perhaps it was no longer feeling the warmth of her soft curves inches away that roused him from a deep sleep. Perhaps it was some quiet noise she had made as she slipped from the bed. Perhaps it was the subtle shift of light as she drew back the curtain to stand before the window. Or perhaps it was the vague yet persistent notion that had been haunting him for the past two months that one day she would slip away, leaving his life as quickly as she’d entered it.
His eyes searched the dark of the bedroom and found her by the window, her figure bathed in silvered light. She had her back to him and had pulled on his shirt. Its hem grazed the backs of her thighs. It took a second longer for him to realize that she was shaking.
He rolled out of bed and was across the room in three strides. She drew a quick breath and then stilled as she felt him approach. Wordlessly he wrapped his arms about her middle, drawing her close until the silk of her hair and the fine cotton of his shirt pressed against his naked chest. Her shoulders shook as she tried to control her breathing.
“What’s wrong, Tess?” He kept his voice soft.
“It’s—” She swallowed audibly. “It’s just so beautiful.” The sadness in her voice was heartbreaking.
His arms tightened about her protectively. She yielded, sinking back against his body. Reassured by her gesture, he rested his chin lightly on top of her head and gazed out the window. It was a view he’d known all his life but had never taken for granted or stopped loving. That Tess, his dyed-in-the-wool city girl, now shared his appreciation made him feel triumphant. He knew she was happy here. He saw it in the enthusiasm with which she approached the new projects and events they’d scheduled for the fall and winter: wine tours of local vineyards, and Tess’s own idea, initiated by one of the guests with whom she’d become friendly and whose watercolors of Silver Creek she’d allowed Tess to post on Pinterest. Madlon Glenn, an amateur artist, had mentioned to Tess that Silver Creek would be a wonderful place to hold an artists’ weekend. Professional artists—draftsmen, painters, watercolorists, and photographers—could hold workshops for amateurs and professionals alike. Tess had floated the idea at a morning staff meeting. His father and mother, back now from their trip to South Carolina and Spain, had been delighted at the idea.
“I knew having you take over as our events planner was inspired, Tess,” Adele had said.
It wasn’t only the enthusiasm Tess brought to her work that revealed her attachment to Silver Creek. A week before, Ward had taught her how to lope on Brocco. The grin on her face as she’d mastered the easy roll of the faster gait was a sight to behold.
Later, just before dusk, he’d taken her on a celebratory picnic in the pear orchard. They’d spread an old blanket over a grassy patch under the trees that were heavy and fragrant with blossoms. They’d fed each other bites of chicken pesto, pan-seared shrimp and guacamole, and a selection of Roo’s macaroons. He’d slipped a bottle of a new chardonnay, which Reid had discovered, into the picnic basket and made sure the blanket he chose for them was the softest one in his linen closet, because watching her ride that afternoon and seeing how far she’d come in mastering her fears had made him proud and possessive as hell: reason number 259 to get Tess Casari naked. It had been just as much fun sweet-talking her into letting him peel off her clothes layer by layer as the first time they’d made love. He knew to his marrow that he’d never tire of devising new ways to seduce her or of watching her gloriously naked and poised above him, riding once more, now following the thrust and grind of his hips as he moved inside her, rocking faster and harder as their bodies and hearts raced toward their climax.
It was a sensation like no other. He’d watched Tess’s face as she came, her body pulsing and quivering around him, her face flushed with passion, her eyes dazzling, filled with the wonder and delight of what they’d shared. Overhead, a breeze had rocked the branches above them to release a gentle shower of pear petals that floated to the ground like celebratory confetti.
She’d thrown back her head, laughing, and accused him of arranging the spectacle just for her. And he would have happily negotiated with Mother Nature to create that special effect just to hear her joy, to see her lips curve in that special, intimate smile. A smile for him alone.
They were doing well. Everyone accepted that he and Tess were an item. His mother was careful not to show how thrilled she was. And even though Tess hadn’t moved all her belongings into his house, they were, for all intents and purposes, living together. It had been a subtle campaign on his part to convince her that her sexy shoes and even sexier cowboy boots needed a little more space, and he had closets aplenty, and that he really liked her cosmetics and creams and brushes cluttering his bathroom vanity.
And God, he loved the sound of her laughter filling his house.
So why had he awakened at three A.M. to find her bowed and desolate? It was frustrating that he couldn’t get her to open up and reveal the source of her troubles, that even though they’d come so far in their relationship, there was still this deep reserve to her. But he knew better than to push her. Tess had been hurt before. In a sense, she was as skittish as one of Quinn’s rescues. He needed to be patient. Soon enough she’d realize that she could trust him with her troubles, with her heart.
He lowered his head, bringing his mouth to the sensitive hollow behind her ear, pressing a kiss there before running his lips down the length of her neck. She arched her neck, offering him greater access, and then hu
mmed in pleasure as he nuzzled her collarbone. Her hands rose to tangle in his hair and he took advantage of her position to slip his hands beneath the tails of the shirt and cup her breasts, letting their lush weight fill his palms.
“Your brother’s okay?”
“I guess. My mom says he’s sleeping more. But he’s not having outbursts so the floor supervisor hasn’t threatened to up the dosage of his medication. And Christopher seems to like his new aide so maybe it’s just a phase he’s going through.”
“And is he still hooked on his video game?”
“Oh, yeah.” Her voice lightened. “Pokémon’s still his fave. We’d all be really worried if he lost his love of Joltik’s Super Circuit.”
“Anna’s fine?” His thumbs traced the pebbled surface of her areolae.
“She and Lucas and another backer signed a lease for a commercial space on Cobble Hill in Brooklyn. Her hope is to get all the paperwork and remodeling done and open the restaurant by next year. She’s over the moon.”
He could hear in her voice how much she loved and missed her friend and family. But he didn’t sense they were the reason behind her sadness.
Fatigue? Stress? He knew it wasn’t that time of the month—and yes, call him a chauvinist, but he had noticed that women tended to go off the deep end emotionally at certain times of the month. Quinn, a case in point. He and Reid could tease their little sister for three weeks out of every month. They risked life and limb if they messed with her the couple of days prior to her period. With Tess, all he’d noticed was that she gravitated toward the chocolate in a big way and that her breasts became even more wonderfully sensitive than they normally were. Which was saying something, he thought with a smile, as he lightly pinched her beaded nipples and benefited from her immediate response. Moaning, she pressed the delicious curves of her ass against his erection, rubbing slowly.
“The wedding? Is that what’s bothering you?” His voice now held a rough rasp, his arousal battling with his desire to discover the source of Tess’s unhappiness. Overseeing the preparations for a wedding was a monumental responsibility and he knew how seriously she took it. But his mother had mentioned just the other day how impeccably organized things seemed to be. There was none of the last-minute craziness they’d experienced with many of the weddings they’d held at Silver Creek. “Everything’s set, right? You and Phil have placed all the guests—all the ones that have bothered to reply, that is. And tomorrow’s the deadline to RSVP, right?”
She turned in his arms, moving her own so that they looped around his neck. “You have some pretty slick interrogation techniques.” She kissed him.
“Do I? ’Cause I feel like I’m coming up short.”
“You’re not. It’s just that I’m not used to feeling like this, Ward. I’m happier than I’ve ever been. It makes things complicated.” Her voice dropped even lower as she added, “It makes me scared that I might lose what I’ve found with you.”
He couldn’t resist. He kissed her, tasting the sweetness her words had left. Their lips clung, their tongues tangled and danced. When at last they parted his breath was ragged with desire. “It doesn’t have to be complicated. Tess, you know things have changed between us—and they’ve only gotten better. But I don’t want to pressure you into something you’re not ready for. We’ve got time.”
“Ward, was it like this for you and Erica?”
Where had that come from? he wondered. Since the weekend when Brian, Carrie, and her stepsister visited, he and Tess had pretty much avoided the subject of Erica, a relief for both of them. He’d also become a master at avoiding talking to Erica. He screened calls not to block telemarketers but ex-fiancées. When she did sneak past his guard, he kept the conversation to one and only one topic, Brian and Carrie’s wedding, before hanging up. The message, conveyed in the bluntest terms possible, was simple: He had no intention of letting her into his life, let alone his heart.
He was pretty sure he’d convinced Tess of how he felt about his ex-fiancée. But if she needed reassuring in the dark hours before dawn, he’d give it to her. “No, it was nothing like with you, Tess. It’s not to say it wasn’t good between us. You didn’t see Erica at her best, but she’s bright and clever and energetic. And I thought she loved me. But then, a couple of months after we’d gotten engaged, Erica and I had our extremely enlightening discussion about her vision for the ranch and our life as a married couple. It was a real kick in the gut to realize I was just a means to an end.”
Tess angled her head to gaze up at him. “Oh, Ward, I’m so sorry.”
He raised his hand to stroke her hair. “At least I found out what Erica wanted sooner rather than later. But you want to know the worst of it? It was when I realized that what was really wounded was my pride. My pride, not my heart. I was pissed at myself for being so arrogant as to believe that I really knew Erica, that I could trust her to understand what it was I cared for most in the world—my family and this place. I thought she felt the same way. Realizing how stupid you can be about a person is damned humbling—not a great feeling when you’re as arrogant as me.” He grinned and dropped a kiss on her lips.
“You’re not arrogant.” Her voice was low. “I was an idiot when I called you that before. I was just embarrassed about my car dying on me. I knew so little about them. I’d never owned one before coming here. I was stupid enough to believe the guy who sold it to me that although the body might look a little the worse for wear, the engine was in fine shape. Unfortunately, it hasn’t been the only time I’ve made a stupid decision—” For the space of several heartbeats she was silent. Then she spoke and her voice dropped even lower, as if buried under a terrible weight. “Ward, I need to tell you—”
At the anxiety in her voice, his earlier frustration with her reticence disappeared.
His soft “Shh” stopped her. He brought his fingers to her chin and tipped it to gaze into her eyes. Despite the darkened room he could see the trouble clouding them.
He hated even the thought of her being unhappy.
“Tess, I know you’ve got a lot in your past, but whatever it is can wait until you’re less worried and stressed from dealing with Brian and Carrie’s wedding. Everything’s going to be all right, I promise. It will be better than all right, and Brian and Carrie are going to be blissfully happy with their wedding. So much so that I’m willing to wager they end up calling their first child Tess. Let’s hope it’s a girl.”
When she cracked a little smile he kissed her. “Let me love you, Tess,” he whispered. “Please.”
Triumph shot through him as she rose on her toes and pressed her mouth to his, kissing him feverishly. He had his answer. She was his. He just had to keep proving it to her.
He made love to her, ministering to her with a passion fierce and tender, with an unflagging focus that left her gasping, writhing, and shimmying beneath his hands and mouth. And when he dove into her slick heat, he exulted at the raw cry of pleasure she made. Whispering his name in a desperate incantation, she arched and rocked against him, urging him on.
His hands gripped hers, sure and strong, as he set a rhythm for them both. He rained kisses on her parted lips, on her breasts, quivering and lush, on the enchanting curves of her body. He breathed in the scent of her body, as fragrant as sun-warmed honey, and his passion burned that much hotter, wilder. He feasted with wet lashes of his tongue and tender bites of his teeth. And when he gazed into her eyes and saw that he’d chased away the clouds dimming them, and had replaced them with a bright, rapt light, he knew a piercing joy. Holding her hands tighter, he plunged deeper, fulfilling the promise he’d made: loving her, body and soul.
TESS HAD A clipboard in one hand, a pen tucked behind her right ear, and a cup of coffee—number three of the day and it was only eight A.M.—cradled in her other. Her cell, encased in a jewel-encrusted “bling” case that Anna had sent her as a good-luck gag present, was dangling from her wrist by a white strap, at the ready. The most recent call had been from Samantha Nichol
ls. She was packing up the flowers and would be leaving within the hour.
Tess paused to sip her coffee as she scanned the grounds. Walter the handyman and his crew of groundskeepers were busy carrying tables and chairs and arranging them in clusters for the cocktails and champagne that would begin flowing after the five-o’clock ceremony had ended. Less than nine hours remained until then, but things were going well. So far there hadn’t been a single glitch or crisis—minor or major league—to fix.
The morning was beautiful, the ranch awash in the greens of late California spring, their hues enhanced by the pinks, yellows, and violets of flowers that danced in the light breeze.
With a wave to Walter and a call to Pedro, Walter’s nephew who’d been lending an extra pair of hands all week, that one of the tables should be moved a little closer to the flower bed, where there was a big clump of peonies and Siberian irises, she continued her inspection, moving toward the dinner tent. Against the vibrant green of the grass, the tent, pristine white and designed with a scalloped roofline, looked spectacular. It made her think of a medieval pageant. She stepped inside. The company had done an excellent job stringing the bistro lights. Tess and Walter had done a test run the night before while the guests were enjoying their barbecue up at the lodge. The effect of the lighting was magical. And it would look even more so once Samantha installed the hanging floral arrangements and the long tables were covered with white linen, the tables set, the small lanterns lit, the sweet bouquets placed in pretty tin vases, and the tent filled with laughter and happiness for the wedded couple.
